


The Trapped

by songofdefiance



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Blood, Gen, Gore, Happy halloween, Horror, post-Death of the Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 15:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12584620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofdefiance/pseuds/songofdefiance
Summary: In the year 1852, on the first day of the Month of Darkness, Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin, first of her name and Empress of the Isles, vanishes.





	The Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> Remember how I said that the Hypatia one-shot was going to be my last fic before NaNo? I lied.

In the year 1852, on the first day of the Month of Darkness, Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin, first of her name and Empress of the Isles, vanishes.

* * *

 

Two maids are conversing in hushed whispers at the foot of a stairwell.  It’s the stairwell that leads to the quarters of the former Royal Protector, now Lord Regent.  One of the maids, Lisabeth, has just taken the Regent’s meal up to him.

“I heard that she was behaving strangely for almost a month before she disappeared,” Lisabeth whispers.

“I heard strange noises when I passed by her room one night,” her friend, Amarice, whispers back.

“Do you think that the rumors are true?  Do you think - “

“It’s not impossible.  It does seem odd that sixteen years ago, the Regent was accused of murdering Empress Jessamine, and now his daughter disappears too?  Perhaps the Empress finally grew suspicious of him, and now she’s suffered the consequences.”

“Perhaps  _ you  _ have been listening to too much gossip while drinking.”

Amarice titters, rather than act offended.  “Oh please, you can never have enough gossip while drinking, Lisabeth.”

“It’s all the nobility can talk about,” grumbles Lisabeth.  “Lord Attano has always been kind to me.”

“I suppose, yes - and he’s rather dashing for his age, isn’t he?”

“ _ Amarice _ !”

Eventually, the two maids take their conversation elsewhere, both aware that getting caught by the subject of their conversation isn’t an ideal situation.  Lisabeth and Amarice take the dirty dishes down to the kitchens and wash them side-by-side, speaking amicably all the while.  They’ve always been good friends, regardless of their differences in opinion.  

They even share bunk beds.  Amarice gets the top.  Lisabeth gets the bottom.  That’s how it’s always been.

Morning dawns, and Lisabeth (as always) stirs with the sun.  There’s something wet on her face, and she absently wipes it away before she throws her feet over the side of the bed and stands, stretching.  

The weak morning sunlight catches on her hand - the one she used to wipe away the wetness.  It’s red.

Lisabeth spins around.  Her throat seizes up.  

Amarice lies, limbs sprawled, blood staining her sheets red and brown.  She has no head.

* * *

 

The day that the disappearance of Emily Kaldwin is announced, chaos erupts.  

Nobles are quick to vye for power in her absence, and the new Lord Regent and heir to the throne is forced to imprison most of those who openly express their greed.  He treats them well.  They are fed, they are not tortured, and they are given reasonably comfortable beds.  But there never is any accounting for how cold it can get in Coldridge.

Morley chooses this time to declare independence.  Again.

Serkonos is steadfast in its loyalty to the Crown, thanks to not-Luca Abele.  His assistance is a relief to the already-strained Lord Regent.  

Tyvia stays quiet.  It worries the Lord Regent more than Morley’s declaration.

When he is not preoccupied by the pressures of ruling, Corvo Attano replays a single memory over and over again in his mind:

It is one week before Emily’s disappearance.  Corvo is going up to Emily’s office to ask her what she was thinking when she ordered a City Watch raid on the Rudshore Financial District.  He hears her voice before he enters her office, but thinks nothing of it; she often talks to herself when she’s trying to hash out her decisions.

Corvo knocks.  He doesn’t receive an answer, but that’s usually an affirmative (or so Emily’s told him).  He enters the room.

Emily is seated behind her desk, rubbing her temples, looking like she wants nothing more than to sleep.  Her gloves are off, and her Mark is an angry red on her right hand.  Emily is also standing in one corner, looking just as frustrated, her sword in her hand.

Corvo is flabbergasted.  Emily has been cagey about her abilities, but surely she would’ve thought to mention  _ this _ .

“Even if you  _ could  _ send me away - “ the one in the corner is arguing.

“You’d already be gone.”

“We’re equally expendable here!”

Corvo clears his throat.  Both Emilys snap their gazes to him, and he sees the moment that they both panic.  

“Father - “ they both say.

The Emily behind the desk puts up a hand, like she wants to stop him from entering further, and a third Emily appears, this time behind her.  This one is also holding her folding blade, and she looks just as confused as the first two before her expression hardens.

“You have to kill two of us,” one Emily says.  Corvo can’t tell which one.

“I’m  _ not  _ going to kill any of you,” he snaps, an instinctive reaction.  “Emily, what’s - “

The Emily behind the desk says, “It’s the only way to make them  _ go _ .”

“You want to make  _ us  _ go?  Why don’t  _ you  _ go?”

“Five seconds,” says the Emily in the corner.  “Five seconds, and then I’m shooting both of you, I don’t care what - “

The Emily behind the desk makes a sharp gesture, like she’s trying to cut someone’s throat with her bare hand.  Abruptly, the other two Emilys vanish, leaving only her.  She freezes, looking terrified for the first time since Corvo had arrived.

“I’m sorry, Father,” she whispers, burying her face in her hands.  “Please, just... go.”

“Emily - “

_ “Go!” _

He does.

* * *

 

The number of murders in Dunwall Tower starts to climb into the twenties, and then the murders start happening out in the city.  It’s always high-profile people, too - nobles and businesspeople.  The name ‘Crown Killer’ is resurrected, and miles away in Karnaca, Alexandria Hypatia shudders when she reads the headlines.

Fingers are pointed at the Lord Regent, and every time someone does, the person pointing it dies.  The deaths are gruesome - dismemberment, blood everywhere.  Eventually, Corvo Attano stops investigating the crime scenes personally.  No one wants him there, and he does not want to be there.

Compared to all that, the search for Emily Kaldwin seems pointless, but the Lord Regent insists that it continue.  

The Abbey comes calling, as they always do.  They turn the Tower upside-down in their attempts to find proof of the Lord Regent’s heresy, only for them to come up with nothing.  The new High Overseer frowns the entire time that he meets with Corvo one-on-one.

The next day, the High Overseer is found dead at Holger Square.  He’s strung up, and his mouth has been cut on the ends to create a gruesome smile.

Morley is winning their battle for independence.  Tyvia is planning an invasion.  The Lord Regent is aware of it, but what can he do?  Already thousands are fleeing Dunwall, afraid that the Crown Killer will come for them next.  In the day, Corvo is just barely hanging on.  At night, he prays to the Outsider, to whoever might be listening, that Emily is found soon.

* * *

 

One month later, Dunwall is hell.  Those who can afford to move have already left.  The rest tiptoe through the streets, aware that their death could be fast approaching.

The only two people who show no such fear are an odd pair.  A young man, probably in his twenties, whose steps have all the weight of an elder.  An older woman, wearing a red jacket, with a patch over her eye and slumped shoulders.  Just looking at them makes any passerby want to edge away.

Night has fallen.  The street lamps provide little light, but it’s enough for the two to see.

“Emily always seemed... I don’t know.  Invincible.”

Billie Lurk knows that she should have learned her lesson by now.  No one is invincible, or infallible.  But after everything that Emily accomplished in Karnaca, she had seemed pretty damn close.  

“She did,” agrees the man who was once the Outsider.  “She took to my Mark like she had been born with it.  She conducted herself well when she made her way through Karnaca.”

The two have only heard rumors of the chaos in Dunwall.  Billie has yet to see anything suspicious, but she thinks that the Void is almost  _ angry _ , here.  The former Outsider, on the other hand, carries around a secret in his heart.  Most days, it feels like sludge.

It’s also the reason they’ve finally ventured to Dunwall, in spite of reluctance on both sides.  They’re trying to find somewhere they can spend the night.  In the morning, they plan on going to Dunwall Tower, to see what they can do to help Corvo with his investigation.

“I should’ve known Dunwall would fall to shit if something happened to Emily,” Billie murmurs.  “Damn it, why did she disappear?  Did someone kidnap her?  Is she - “

She stops speaking.  The Outsider has stopped walking, his features illuminated by the light of a lamp overhead.  In this light, his eyes almost look the way they did back when he was still a god.

“You know something,” she accuses.

The Outsider merely looks at her.  That look still sends shivers down Billie’s spine, sometimes.

“Emily took to the Mark very well,” he says.  “Too well.”

“What is  _ that  _ supposed to mean?” Billie asks.  “That she fucked off to some corner of the Empire?  She has magic from the Void, so her responsibilities don’t matter to her anymore?  That the Abbey spirited her off because they found out and they wanted to make sure that the Empress never saw the light of day again?”

* * *

 

In Dunwall Tower, Corvo Attano is sitting, wishing he could turn back time.  Someone is calling his name.

He never hears them.

* * *

 

“She should have run,” the Outsider says.  “It would’ve been the smart thing to do.  But she didn’t, and now it’s too late.”

“Would you stop being obscure for five seconds?” Billie snaps.

“Billie,” the Outsider sighs.  “She’s still here.”

A shadow detaches from the edge of the circle made by the street lamp, and Billie has barely a second to reach for the Outsider before he’s wrenched into the darkness.


End file.
